Until the End of the World (Book 1) (38 page)

“You can’t look,” I say. “Close your eyes.”

Bits giggles, and Peter bends down so she can cover his eyes. “Okay. I can’t see.”

I get back on. The bike picks up speed, and right away I feel like I’m out of control, but I fight the urge to close my eyes and land in a relatively safe heap. I grip the handlebars and keep going. The wind kicks up my hair and cools my neck. This must be why people ride bikes. It beats the shit out of running. When I’ve gone a ways, I stop and turn the bike by walking it. I’m not about to attempt what seems like some sort of daredevil maneuver, even though Bits and probably every other seven year-old in the world can do it, and I head back.

My eyes are trained on the road, and only when I hear whistles and cheers do I look up. Bits is too busy clapping to cover Peter’s eyes any longer, and they both watch my approach. I brake in front of them, feeling both extremely proud of myself and like the world’s biggest dork at the same time.

“I can ride a bike!” I say. “Sort of.”

“You did great!” Bits says. “We’ll practice together!”

Her eyes are so sincere that I bend down and give her a kiss. “Thanks for the advice,” I say to Peter. “It worked. Now, if only you’d take mine.”

“I will, Cassandra. If you’ll stop bugging me about it.”

“Done and done,” I say.

But we both know I have no intention of doing anything of the sort. He stares at me sternly, but his mouth twitches, and I stare back until he cracks a smile. I salute them both and head to the house on my bike. I don’t fall once.

The sun hides behind dark clouds, but I wake at dawn, as usual. Rain means there’s less to do, so we can sleep in. I once thought eight in the morning was early and eleven was reasonable on weekends. I decide to try for eight this morning. I bury myself under the covers, but after a few minutes I sigh and give up.

“I used to get home at this time after a night out, not wake up,” Nelly complains.

He has one arm under his head as he looks out the window. I stretch my arms and point my toes. It doesn’t hurt as much as it did. My body’s gotten used to all this exercise.

He snaps out of his reverie. “That’s two nights with no nightmares, right?” he asks.

I nod. “How did you know?”

“I tend to notice being pummeled and woken up by screaming most of the time. So, I also tend to notice when I’m not.”

I kick him under the blankets. He yelps and moves his legs. My feet are freezing, even in the summer. Adrian always let me tuck my icy feet under his thighs. He would clench his teeth and smile while I sighed with contentment.

“I think the nightmares are gone. At least for the time being.” I can’t say why that’s the case, but I’m pretty sure it is. I’m starting to feel like me again.

I throw back the covers and grab clothes. When I open my top drawer, I see the glint of silver and pick up the ring. It’s warm in my palm. I place it on the bathroom sink, and when I’m dressed I slip it in my pocket. That’s where it belongs since it makes me happy. No matter what happens. I pat it gently and head out to make breakfast.

***

The cutthroat game of Monopoly has ended, and we all sit around, listening to the rain pelt down on the metal roof when there’s a crash in the kitchen.

Penny stands among the remnants of a bowl. “Shoot. Sorry, Cass.”

I keep telling her that this is her house, too, but I know she feels bad about breaking something of my parents’.

“Please, Pen, it’s fine. Hey, remember when I broke your mom’s vase?”

We were twelve and I’d been showing Penny some goofy dance move I’d made up. Penny grins, remembering how when Maria came home she wasn’t angry. She put on music, asked me to show her the move, then proceeded to do it around the house while we laughed our asses off.

If only she were here or we knew she were safe. My fear is reflected in Penny’s eyes before she turns her gaze back toward the smashed crockery. When she looks up, her smile is back.

“This is such a movie day,” she sighs. “Most of the time I don’t miss TV, but on a day like today…”

“A movie,” Bits says. She looks like someone’s just offered her a trip to the moon. “I wish we could watch a movie.”

John laughs. “Well, ladies, had I known how desperate the situation had gotten, I would’ve said something sooner. Why don’t we watch a movie at my place while we run the genny?”

We allow ourselves almost no excess electricity. The generator stays at John’s and runs the freezers for a few hours a day to keep things frozen. It powers the radio and washing machine, charges batteries and tools. Gasoline is a very finite resource, and we want enough to last us through the winter.

“Yes!” Bits shouts, and throws her arms around John’s neck.

She’s become so demonstrative in recent weeks. I’ve been the recipient of at least a thousand butterfly kisses. And while her nightmares haven’t disappeared, they don’t come as often. She trusts us so completely it terrifies me we’ll fail her somehow.

“Well, we definitely shouldn’t make any popcorn,” I tease.

She grins. “Caa-ssie! Yes, we should! And my Barbies and your dog have to come, too.” She races down the hall to retrieve the toys she’s started playing with again.

“Wow,” Nelly says. “That kid really needs a movie, huh?”

When
The Princess Bride
ends, we all sigh. Spending time in another world really was like taking a trip to the moon. I could watch movies for a week straight.

“Well, it’s about time for the seven o’clock broadcast,” John says.

We eat the remaining popcorn while we wait. I steel myself for Adrian’s voice, even though I know it’s unlikely, but it’s just Matt, running down the list of Safe Zones, and one’s missing.

“The Safe Zone outside of Allentown, Pennsylvania has been compromised,” he reports. “The survivors described a pod of Lexers several hundred strong. Their exact losses are unknown but very high. Some survivors are reported to be in the Safe Zone in Starlight, Pennsylvania.”

He reminds us that pods of this size could mean a change in the habits of the infected. The report ends a minute later. I guess even Matt, who seems to have taken a real shine to being a radio personality, doesn’t have the energy to be cheerful.

“Okay,” John says. His mouth turns down. “We need to start working on fortifications tomorrow.”

I try to imagine the group of Lexers we ran into at the Radio Shack times nine.

“We could never fight off that many, either,” I say.

“Nope,” John replies. “That’s why we have the van.”

Any magic the movie left behind has evaporated by the time we head back. Bits holds my hand and waxes on about Princess Buttercup. At least she’s still happy, and I want her to stay that way. The thought of her, alone, defenseless, makes me grip her hand tight.

“Ouch!” she says.

I loosen my hand. “Sorry, honey.” But it’s all I can do not to tighten it again, I’m so worried.

John distributes ammo to each of our backpacks in the van. He has some MREs, and with the remaining ones from Sam’s Surplus, we have food for a few days.

“Yuck,” Penny says, when I stick some in each bag.

John smiles. “Ah, they’re not so bad. You should see what they used to feed us in Vietnam. It tasted a lot worse and weighed a ton, too.”

“But they had cigarettes in them back then, didn’t they?” James asks longingly, wheeling a bike over. He hasn’t had any since his last pack.

“They did, and that was the best thing about them.” John helps James lift the bike up.

“Well, they should give extra combat pay based on the food alone,” Penny says. She adds another sleeping bag to the back. “I think that’s it.”

John laughs. “James, I need help with the shutters. We’ll cut ‘em at my place and drive over.”

Locking the bike down, James says, “Sure thing, boss.”

While they work on the shutters, I work on letters for the Message Tree. I write a new one to Henry Washington, telling him we’ll be in Vermont if we’re not here. I remember how I thought I was lucky that I had no children to keep safe. And now that I do, I see I was right. There’s the fear I’ll have to watch her die, and, possibly even worse, that I’ll die and she’ll suffer some horrible fate scared and alone. I think of small, serious Hank and work hard to imagine him full of life instead of shambling and rotting in the woods somewhere.

I write to Eric. I tell him about the ring and thank him for saving it for me. I tell him he was right—about the ring, about Adrian, and about the infection being so much worse than we thought. I tell him he saved me by making me promise I’d leave New York. I tell him I love him and am picturing him and Rachel hiking through the woods, having the time of their lives, because that’s how I always think of him. I tell him to meet us in Vermont when he can.

***

It’s only three o’clock, but the house is dark. The inside of every window and door in the living area is covered. John’s made frames that fit around them so the plywood shutters can be easily hung. They have small hinged doors for viewing and firing a gun.

“I have one for the hallway,” John says. “I didn’t have enough wood for the bedrooms, but those windows are higher. We can make this a panic room of sorts until we get more. We’ll put them up every night.”

“I feel like we’re on an episode of the A-Team,” I say. When everyone looks at me curiously, I explain: “I used to watch the reruns with Eric. Remember at the end they would always build a crazy vehicle or fortress or something?”

James’s face had been sober as we sat in the dark and imagined being surrounded, but now his usual smile is back. “That was my favorite part.”

“So, do I get to be Face?” Nelly asks.

“You and Peter can fight for it,” I say. “But I’m Murdock, he was my favorite.”

“You know,” Peter says. “That doesn’t surprise me one iota.”

He and Nelly high five each other. What is with the high fives?

“Well,” James says. “I know there’s no question that I’m B.A. Baracus. I’ve been told the resemblance between me and Mr. T is striking.”

“That’s what attracted me to you at first,” Penny says to James, who crosses his arms in a Mr. T pose.

“I pity the fool who messes with my plywood shutters,” James says in a deep voice, which makes us laugh.

Even Bits laughs, although she has no idea what we’re talking about. And when she mimics James and says it, with her scrawny arms crossed and her tiny voice as deep as she can make it, we lose it completely.

John pretends to be disturbed. “Okay. We’d better take them down. I think the dark might be getting to you all.”

It’s seven in the morning, but the day is already hot, humid and still. Nelly washes the breakfast dishes while we sprawl out in the living room. There’s so much to do, but none of us feels like moving.

“It’s hot,” Bits whines from where she lies flat on the floor.

“It is,” Peter agrees. “I think you’re starting to melt. Look at you, you’re oozing into the wood.”

She giggles. I fan her with an old magazine, and she closes her eyes and pants as the air rushes past.

“It’s too hot to do anything,” Penny says. She looks at me with one eye squinted, just like she used to in high school. “Should we cut school?”

It’s the best idea I’ve heard all morning. “We totally should. We should go to the pond.”

Bits sits up. “Pond? Like swimming?”

I nod. “Yep. We have to walk about a mile, and it’s kind of muddy and gross, but we can catch frogs and salamanders. And swim, if it’s not too icky for you.”

“It’s not! Can we really go?” Bits leaps to her feet, the heat forgotten.

I look to John, who nods. “We’ll have to check it out first, Bits, make sure it’s safe, but I don’t see why not. I still have the kids’ frog-catching nets at the house.”

“Can we have a picnic?” Bits asks. “And, Cassie, can we paint? Outside, like you were telling me about?”

“Sure.” I love to see her so excited and wish for the hundredth time that she could have a normal childhood. I point to Nelly. “We’ll just load up our pack mule to carry it all.”

“Hee-haw,” he says.

“That’s a donkey, silly!” Bits laughs, before running off to find something to wear.

John and Peter radio us to come down. The pond is a tiny tributary of the creek that runs through my parents’ land and ends in a beaver dam. This time of year it’s buzzing with dragonflies and frogs and surrounded by cattails.

By the time we reach the pond we’re dripping with sweat. John and Peter stand in the clearing around the water and survey the surroundings. I strip to my bathing suit and spray Bits and myself with sunblock.

“Hey,
blanquito
,” Penny says to James. “Come and get some of this.”

She sprays James, and I eye her tan enviously. “I hate you,” I say. She responds with a grin.

Nelly drops his bags in the grass and pulls off his shirt. “I’m going in. You with me, Bits?”

“Yeah!” she yells. She runs into the muck at the water’s edge and turns back. “Ew, it’s gross, but not too gross. The water’s warm, though. Come on!”

I make my way to the water. I love it here, although being so far from the house with no early warning system makes me nervous.

Bits squeals as frogs plop into the water while we wade in, the mud squishing between our toes. “There’s one, Cassie! And another! There’s, like, a million!”

Nelly runs past and dives in. He comes up spouting water and goes under again. Bits doggy paddles around me and talks incessantly. The water is cool and feels wonderful. I’m about to dunk myself when my ankle is yanked out from under me.

Suddenly I’m in the water up to my neck. I gasp for air to scream. In an instant I can see how it will all play out: The bite on my ankle, the slow death, the way they’ll have to finish me off when I’m finally dead so that I stay that way. I kick until its grip releases and grab Bits just as Nelly pops up, rubbing a red mark on his chest.

“Sorry,” he says with a sheepish grin. “I guess I kind of forgot things like that aren’t funny anymore. This is definitely gonna bruise. Nice karate moves, by the way.”